


A Pearl In The Sand

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Bondage, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/F, Frottage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26058607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A marauder discovers how willing her captive can really be.
Relationships: Kidnapped Princess/Bandits Ransoming Her
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous, Anonymous Fics, Femslash After Dark 2020





	A Pearl In The Sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kicksmalfoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kicksmalfoy/gifts).



Her first hint should have been how scared she wasn't.

Being a marauder had always come easy to Aida, as if she was born atop a saddle with reins in her hands (her origin had been more conventional than that of course, but she always appreciated an amusing fable). Her women shared her wanderlust, content to feel the wind through their hair as they raced across the steppes, offering their services to other pillaging tribes every time they needed to replinish their stores. The most recent place they found themselves invading (too small to be called a kingdom, too large to be a town) had put up an admirable stand. It played wonderfully into what Aida had planned for anyway, two of her most skillful women faced practically no hinderance when they stole the princess from her own bedchambers and left behind a ransom note that could not be mistaken for anything else.

When the princess (and really, they ought to call her Tahirah now, there was not much mystery between them and her anymore) came to, she gave out the briefest air of trepidation before wordlessly understanding what she was fated for. That was the first and only time Tahirah had been unsure.

It really should have been her first hint.

***

It surpised no one when Yasmeen had her first - their scout in more ways than one. Aida woke in the middle of the night to find her straddling the princess, fingers entwined, their spit-slick lips coming together in noises just barely louder than the embers of the fire. She rose; her women were not the kind who would take without asking, but Kedma, who always took the night watch, spoke to reassure her anyway. "Yasmeen asked, repeatedly, and the princess affirmed," she kicked a stone away, then turned to look at Aida with a grin, "Did you know her people count her as untouched because a man hasn't been in her?"

Judging by how Tahirah was preoccupied with grinding up into Yasmeen's thigh conveniently positioned between her legs, _untouched_ was almost certainly a misnomer. Aida could tell there was more to the princess than she first guessed. Really, it should have been a hint.

She watched with no small amount of interest, the flutter of Tahirah's eyelids when Yasmeen rubbed against her just so, the uninhibited moan that escaped her ruby red lips when she felt first Yasmeen's tongue, and then teeth, on her defenseless neck. Her hands were wrapped tight around Yasmeen's thick curls, (Aida let out a private laugh, her scout was indulgent with the more demanding women she took, but not for long, and oh- it seemed like she had reached the end of her rope) before one of Yasmeen's hands slid down her back, her ass, then her thigh, as Tahirah's leg was hitched over the other woman's hip, their layers of clothes making no difference to the sudden, thrilling contact they had. The princess let go of her tormentor, hands scrabbling for purchase on the ground instead. 

The noises they were making woke a few of the others, some of whom rolled over and continued to drift off, while others watched the display in front of them with the same hunger that Aida felt. The steppes, always a silent spectator to their actions, echoed with the sounds of both women tumbling into gratifying frenzies. Aida eyed them for an instant more, then turned to let the embrace of sleep take her.

***

Their encampment had never enjoyed spoils quite like this, when captive was less and less appropriate a term for them to bestow upon Tahirah. The ceasefire came at a favorable hour, and it soon became evident that while Tahirah was a member of royalty, her return could wait more than that of the more higher-ranked generals who had been captured. A delay in receiving their dues was no hardship, however. Aida was patient - a quality that helped her at stringing her bow to let loose her arrows that found their targets perfectly; and at taming her hooded falcon, later setting it free only for it to bring back gerbils and marmots for their meals. And she was appeased to see the princess seamlessly integrate herself into the group. Aida observed, amused, the sights that beheld her both within and without their tents - Tahirah kneeling in the dirt with her head under Feven's tunic and mouth working incessantly, later holding her up when Feven's knees buckled; lying on her back to let Sara climb her face and ride her mouth like she would an unbroken horse, Tahirah's own legs spread asunder under her heavy clothes; the princess's delicate fingers bringing Zia over the edge with rapid strokes, even as Zia licked into her mouth, barely letting Tahirah catch a moment's breath; lips wrapped around Yesui's nipple, suckling furiously as she rubbed against the strong muscles of the horserider's thigh, both their clothes still on, letting out a sharp cry every time Yesui pulled her back with a sharp tug of her hair. 

On and on they went, till Tahirah came to her, head bowed, although it nothing to conceal her eagerness. She waited till Aida place her hand on the crown of her head, then craned her neck to look at the marauder - her gaze a little mischievous, a lot wanting. "My people consider me undefiled. Would you like to change that?"

There was no more need for hints.

*** 

The princess had always been covered, even as she gave and took her pleasure from the other women. But Aida demanded nothing less than complete surrender, so it made sense for her the peel the princess out of her bulky kaftan, delicate muslin and elegant silks, baring her to the night sky, the stars, her companions, and Aida's own lustful gaze. Tahirah had submitted to the rope wrapped around her wrists and tied to the picket that held their horses, pulling frequently to feel the thin skin rubbed raw.

Aida grazed her teeth along the thigh that had never seen sunlight, quite probably never been exposed to the cool night air even, not until right now, when she had the princess' legs splayed with no sense of regard to their audience. Heat exuded from Tahirah's center, the rush of blood under her skin a cloying warmth every time Aida's face hovered teasingly over her cunt. Holding apart her labia, she merely breathed over the wet folds at first, hiding a smile when Tahirah's legs jerked involuntarily around her, clit eagerly calling out for some form of contact. It was more than a little gratifying to bump her nose into Tahirah's clit as she brushed her lips slowly over where the woman needed it most, before drawing back and lightly slapping the outside of her thighs in playful admonishment. The last thing she needed was her nose broken by a particularly excited thrust. This time, Aida pinned her down more roughly, nails digging into delicate hipbones, giving in to the ravenous hunger that besieged her since she first saw Tahirah in the throes of pleasure days ago.

Her tongue ran long-learned patterns over the already-damp skin of Tahirah's cunt, messy, sloppy, till she could feel wetness coating the corners of her mouth, felt restless legs trying to draw her in with no avail. Maybe next time, she would tie those down too, cover her eyes and bind her breasts with softer cloth, all of the princess presented to her like a feast. So consumed was she with the task, it took her a minute to realize she experienced the strangest sensation of droplets on her bent head. Aida looked up to find Orbei (her second-in-command, her sister-in-arms, the one who introduced her to all of her indulgences - horses and knucklebones, men and women, wine and hashish) standing next to them with a knowing quirk of her lips. Before she knew it, Orbei upended the bottle in her hand again, the dark wine spilling over Tahirah's middle, rivulets sliding in the valley between her breasts, pooling in her navel, before it soaked its way into Tahirah's wet cunt. 

Orbei did always know what she liked best.

Aida lapped up the rousing combination of Tahirah and the wine, releasing loud, wet sounds that were diminished in the wake of fervent, high-pitched babbles and keens emanating from her willing captive. She felt herself getting slick within her trousers when her lips pursed to suckle at Tahirah's clit, her tongue circling around the flushed nub in determined movements till she could no longer taste the wine, only the gush of honeyed wetness that was exclusive to Tahirah. Perhaps another might have shown the woman some mercy after she reached her crest and clenched down around Aida's tongue. Aida gave her half a moment before she plunged her fingers into Tahirah, already working at making the princess spill a second, third, fourth time. 

***

They took her individually, they took her together, they took her in every way, form, and fashion Tahirah assented to, evident in the simple words of agreement she gasped out, in the pleasured moans that spilled out of her relentlessly, in the graceful arch of her back and curve of her breasts with every shuddering release she was brought to. The day her ransom was paid, Tahirah responded with nothing more than quietly getting on Aida's horse, Aida's riding cloak wrapped around her, scent of her hair in Aida's nose, "I reckon with this gold, we can get farther away from here without stopping,"

A beat, and then Aida tucked the once-princess in closer to her chest as they set out, the war forgotten and Tahirah's former home receding in the distance.

A week later they stopped to set up camp, and Tahirah showed her appreciation for the lot of them in the best way she knew how. Her mouth and hands and body at their disposal, as they used her to their own ends, as they persisted in wringing orgasm after orgasm from her.

As on most nights, the leader of the marauders took her at the very end. Her fingers twined themselves in sweat-damp locks, no longer a smooth sheet of slate-black marble down her back but tousled like Tahirah had been riding a horse for days. Aida wanted to lick the dried, salted tear tracks visible once the blindfold was drawn back, the tears that started at the corner of her kohl lined eyes, highlighting how deep and molten they were, and ending somewhere in her hairline. Her fingertips traced lightly over exposed skin, Tahirah's breasts, her hardened nipples, and was she honestly not supposed to give those a pinch when they puckered up so wonderfully under her attention? It escalated to sharp imprints of her teeth across her now sun-browned skin, her neck and collarbones and breasts all lying vulnerable beneath the pressure of her jaws and the prison of her teeth. Aida had not received her own yet, but she could be patient - when she broke in her horses, when she broke in her lovers. She pondered upon it for a moment, before she realized there was nothing stopping her from doing as she please. Tracing her lips down the already mapped out path, she made her way to the soft skin of Tahirah's ear. "One more?"

Days filled with naught but sewing and reading had clearly not done wonders for her stamina, although she worked to fast change that. Tahirah panted heavily, great deep breaths that caused her naked breasts to rise and fall in some hypnotizing rhythm, gleaming golden in the dim firelight, before she turned to look at Aida, eyes heavy-lidded and words slurred. "Thought this was supposed to be a challenge,"

Aida smirked.

***

Her first hint should have been the words that spilled out of Tahirah's mouth when she announced their intention to hold her ransom, keep her prisoner while they awaited their due. It was not the clipped polite tone of royalty she expected, but the callous, vulgar tongue of a commoner, and something that resembled an impudent grin sprawled on her face.

"Bet I'll be around for a while,"

**Author's Note:**

> Dear kicksmalfoy, I hope you enjoy this little piece! I had an excellent time writing it :)


End file.
